


Amen.

by royalsunshinehotel



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Neal needs help but you help him, god bless dev patel, it's sad, post 1x05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalsunshinehotel/pseuds/royalsunshinehotel
Summary: Neal needed a ride home from the hospital.
Relationships: Neal Sampat/Reader, Neal/You





	Amen.

You took Neal home from the hospital. The taxi ride was silent, and he’s staring out the window a little too hard for your liking. The lights are soothing, but you need him to look at you. He hasn’t been able to look at you the whole day.

Kaled’s missing.

If Neal had his way, he’d be in Egypt right now, scouring the streets until he found him. You would have followed him.

He had a flight up on his computer before he punched Rush Limbaugh.

I am him. He is me.

Neal’s on the second floor. The elevators have been out for a month. The two of you walk it, taking the occasional break on the steps because today was terrible.

You unlock the door to his apartment, not turning on the lights as you walk in. You help him take off his coat, and he kicks off his shoes. Neal passes you in the entryway, flopping down on his bed, still in his clothes. You hate when he wears “outdoor clothes” to bed, but to day was today, and he gets a pass.

A part of you could strangle him for breaking his fingers. Your two favorite fingers…

You’re staying over. You lay down beside him in bed.

“I love that you care.” You say quietly, letting your words hang in the dark. Rolling to your side, you see the faint outline of his profile. His eyes are likely shut, and he’s breathing in a pattern.

In for three, hold for seven, out for five.

“It’s so hard sometimes.” His voice breaks. His words could cut you in half.

“I know.” You reach a finger over, and lightly trace the ridge of his nose. He usually likes that, especially on a stressful day.

But today’s not any day. Kaled is missing and Neal broke his hand.

Kaled is missing and Neal blames himself.

You adjust your position, getting closer to him, hooking an arm across. You rest your head on his stomach, and Neal rests his good hand in your hair.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

But then the silence is broken by a jarring phone ring. Neal always keeps his ringer at full volume as if he was a 90 year old man. You make a note to mock him about it later.

Neal reaches for in on his bedside table, but he’s just broken two fingers. You get to it before him. You straddle him quickly, turning the phone off faster than you’ve ever moved before.

The ringing stops, it was from a number you didn’t recognize anyway.

“What the hell?” He snaps. Neal tries to grapple with you for his phone, but your stronger, tossing the phone away and taking his wrists. You’re careful with his new cast, but you don’t let go. You know it’s had when your on top of him and he doesn’t make a move.

“Neal, you’re good at your job.” His expression would have said you’d just slapped him. His eyes are wet and you want to die.

“You need to rest.” He hasn’t slept in two days. His breathing’s too quick.

“Come on Bambi.” You plead. Lowering your face, you press a kiss into his cheek, working your way down his jaw, and ending on the tip of his nose. He lets out a groan, screwing his eyes shut and leaning away.

Neal can’t argue when you call him Bambi. He cries a little, which only you are allowed to see.

You hate Egypt.

“Go to sleep,” you command softly. You settle your weight on top of him, knowing he’d never have the heart to move you. Neal’s heart rate slows with your contact. His breathing loosens. You curl around him like a shield.

It’s 11:45pm on a Tuesday. You have to get through the rest of the week.

You’ve got a toothbrush and clothes here.

The two of you are going to be fine.


End file.
